The Quantum of Reality
by CrossoverWriter
Summary: It is U.C 796, the alliance has begun its massive invasion of the Galactic empire. Yang Wen Li, the undefeated magician, and Reinhard von Lohengramm the devil once again engage in a political landscape where no one party is correct. Enter a new entity, the previously neutral Republic of Auralias and its Miracle Maker Ashoka Orionson. Only time will tell how this plays out...
1. Prelude to Amritsar

**Prelude to Amritsar:**

The wind did not exist in space, yet that sense of being blown back was omnipresent in the air. Yang Wen Li did not usually get displeased easily, in fact it was is inexplicably outgoing attitude that defined his character, but today he was understandably pissed, at the attitude of Commander Lassalle Lobos, who despite repeated calls, and requests chose to ignore the order to retreat. Yang was pissed at the high council, the political dogs who were responsible for this presumptuous invasion of the Galactic Empire. But even more, if possible, he was vexed at the irresponsible and downright greedy attitude of Commodore Falk, The man, who was by all means, the dumbest most, unskilled navy member he had ever had the displeasure of knowing.

Yang was well aware of the fact that the Alliance expeditionary force, comprised of the eight fleets, namely the 3rd, 5th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 12th, and 13th fleets, were going to be attacked. He was also sure that Reinhard von Lohengramm was going to lead the counterattack against the Alliance. The alliance fleet was already running on fumes as it stood, and expecting them to be able to repel the full might of the Imperial navy, that too within their home court was, in Yang's book something damn near impossible to achieve. What hammered the nail in the coffin was of course, the presence of Reinhard himself, possibly the greatest tactician being born.

Yang had time and again commended Reinhard on his brilliant tactics, and he did not disappoint this time either. Yang had known before the lives of those thirty million men had been put on the stake that Reinhard under no circumstance would let the Alliance simply enter his territory, and take what, rightfully belonged to the Galactic Empire. However, it surprised even Yang, the extent to which Reinhard went in order to completely wipe out the two hundred thousand alliance ships that were currently on their way to their downfall. Lohengramm had implemented a simple, yet devilishly devious tactic, which was not uncommon in history, to lure the Alliance in his well placed trap. This was a tactic known as Slash and Burn. The Imperials had already taken the foodstocks of all the so called "liberated" planets, leaving an obligatory nightmare on the hands of the Imperials. They were now, forced to provide supplies to the millions of people living on the occupied planets, from their own resources. This understandably depleted the supplies of the expeditionary force to near exhaustion.

Yang knew this, but out of his democratically patriotic nature, he was mentally obliged to follow the incompetent orders issued to him. With the supply convoy enroute, Yang prepared for the worst, knowing that Reinhard would strike now, to cripple what little hope the Alliance had of salvaging this lost "crusade"

* * *

Unbeknownst to Yang Wen Li, an unknown populous lay in the vicinity of the upcoming storm. This was none other than Ashoka Orionson, the Fleet commander of the Republic of Auralias, the nation that had chosen to remain neutral, until now. Of course, their official entry into the war wasn't as of yet, obviously 'official.' Despite countless efforts by the Free Planets Alliance to convince the President of Auralias, he had remained adamant, on remaining neutral, not wanting to put financial and moral strain on his nation.

Ashoka stood gazing at the stars, contemplating the sudden change of events and his thoughts about the matter, coinciding with his thoughts, his best friend, and subordinate entered the bridge, carrying his trademark grin, showing off his nearly perfect white teeth. Augustus Traverson had known Ashoka for as long as the both of them could remember, and as it happened with time, Augustus had the uncanny ability to read Ashoka's thoughts. He spoke as he entered, "you do know that overthinking is going to lead to me taking over as fleet commander don't you?" Ashoka gave his trademark reply, "You do know threatening your superior can lead to demotion?" Augustus chuckled mildly at the friendly banter.

"On a more serious note," Augustus continued, "my fleet is on standby, and so far what I've understood is that we do not engage, until and unless the alliance dudes are in trouble?" Ashoka's reply was uncharacteristically thoughtful, and contained a sense of self-doubt, which was something alien for both Augustus and himself, "hmm, that is what the official orders say, I wonder though, is there even a single competent commander there?" Ashoka continued, "one who can actually take on Reinhard, or me for that matter." Augustus let out another chuckle at this while speaking in between muffled laughter, "it's almost hilarious, you questioning the existence of a commander on par with you, you know damn well that you're the most brilliant tactician to be born, perhaps ever." Ashoka chided, "You said that before Reinhard came along as well, and now look at him, an abomination of the empire, and by some manner an extension of their colonialist ambitions." Before Augustus had a chance to shrug the comment of obvious self-doubt off, Ashoka chose to linger on, "putting all that aside, what I do know is that Reinhard is definitely brilliant, using slash and burn was something I did not anticipate him using, but it seems he is a lot more potent than even we originally considered him to be, and I would expect him to be even more brilliant during battle." Augustus chose to contradict Ashoka, believing he was just depressed, "dude, stop worrying, he can't be that brilliant, so please don't deviate from your usual attitude." Ashoka finally grinned, "you are the shittiest best friend someone could have." Asugustus laughed, "Yeah well, bastards end up together don't they?" The both of them shared a hearty laugh to this, while within their outer layers of ecstacy, both of them shared the same sense of worry and urgency, knowing it was only a matter of a few hours before the fighting began.

* * *

Reinhard von Lohengramm. A deviously complex man, with an inner power struggle, which was completely invisible to all, but of course Siegfried Kircheis. How unfortunate it was that even his best friend was, at the moment engaged in more pressing matters. Reinhard has sent Siegfried to annihilate the pitiful excuse for a supply convoy that the rebels had sent. Awaiting only the customary report of success, Reinhard sat on his commander's chair, dreamily thinking of how flawless his strategy to eliminate the dissidents was. There was however one unpluckable thorn within the beautiful rose garden, that was his plan. It was Yang Wen Li, the one commander who had proven to be Reinhard's equivalent in fleet commandeering. While it truly scared him, that his plan might come to an anticlimactic end, he could not deny the inevitable sense of excitement he felt, by being given another opportunity to face Yang Wen Li, and make amends for, what he considered a loss at the battle of Astate.

Oblivious to his surroundings, Reinhard almost missed the confirmation from Kircheis, being jolted awake by Paul von Oberstien calmly speaking, "Admiral Kircheis has successfully eliminated the supply convoy, and is on his way back, the fleet awaits your orders, your Excellency." Reinhard nonchalantly replied, "we proceed with the plan of course, eliminate the invaders and cleanse our territory from their filthy grasps." Oberstein relayed the, naturally motivating orders of Reinhard to all the fleets and fleet commanders, who replied with a resounding cheer, as they finished their final preparations.

Reinhard couldn't help let a small smile escape from his lips, as he muttered under his breath, "let's see what you're really capable of shall we, Yang Wen Li?"

* * *

Yang Wen Li had been expecting the attack. It came just as he had predicted, with the effective destruction of the supply convoy, he knew Reinhard would immediately pounce on the perfect opening and exploit it thoroughly. And so he did. With the Alliance fleets isolated from each other, it was a simple matter of finishing them off. Yang Wen Li however, begged to differ. He was not going to let the lives of the sailors who gave their lives go in vain, and so he didn't.

The combat began as soon as the first wave of long range missiles were inbound. Yang was however vary of this and expertly made manoeuvres dodging them. This man was percipient, but foolishly readable Yang thought. His opponent chose to go by the book, within which lied his fatal disadvantage. One which Yang would exploit to the fullest.

Yang's adjutant, Fredrica Greenhill watched him curiously. She found Yang…fascinating, to say the least. She knew the man was a tactical mastermind, one who was most definitely on par with the Imperial devil, Reinhard von Lohengramm. It was however his personality that intrigued Fredrica. During the battle of El-Facil, she had been the one to offer the man coffee, which he had gratefully taken, without reciprocating an expected sense of gratitude, choosing however to thank the young girl, at the time, in a much more snarky way, accentuating his otherworldly outgoing attitude. He took even this to a whole new level, while everyone within the planet was terrified, the supposed man in charge, seemed to not give a damn, and instead chose to enjoy. He isn't known as the hero of El-Facil for no reason though, more than proving his mettle, by successfully evacuating every single citizen, including herself, and, it was for this that she was in awe of the man.

Yang was dimly aware of Fredrica's figure staring at him, presumably expecting orders, for which he didn't disappoint. Giving a spiritually invoking speech, in the middle of a battle was something not many leaders had the guts of pulling of, but then again, Yang Wen li was not most leaders, he was in his own right, a god, atleast in the eyes of his men. "The imperials are attacking us, something I'm pretty sure all of you have been expecting for quite some time now. However, none of the other fleets will budge, and we are no exception, we will hold our ground, and drive the attackers off, for this I require from you, the most unparalleled performance you have given, fight like your life depends on it, which it may, and we will prevail," Yang's words breathed new life in his men, and Fredrica let out a smile, this man was something else.

She also however had more pressing matters, as Yang called her over, "Fredrica, we are roughly equivalent sized fleets, the advantage those men have, is that they have the initiative on their side, and the morale to back it up." Fredrica acknowledged this with a nod, and Yang continued with the tactical assessment, "our first and main objective is to disengage, and set a retreat course of Isherlohn fortress, to this however, we need the enemy to retreat first, which provides us a possibly catastrophic paradox." Fredrica, waited to add her inputs, letting Yang finish, "This means, we have no other choice, but to engage the enemy, however, instead of being on the defensive, which the enemy would most definitely expect, we will counter with our own offensive, confusing the enemy, and minimising the casualty rate." Fredrica chose this moment to interject, "with all due respect sir, how do you plan on achieving this?" Yang laughed with a dangerous undertone, "I'm happy you asked that question Lieutenant, we'll be hitting both the enemy flanks in swift movements, beginning with the right flank, as soon as the enemy rearranges their fleet to counter our attack, we take on their left flank," Yang's fleet commanders were staring at him, awaiting the full explanation, "after their fleet is sufficiently scattered, we wait for them to retreat, if they choose not to, then we attack them, and break them in the middle."

Yang's commanders stood wide mouthed, they understood the plan very well, and were confident the in success probability, however it was still not as easy as it seemed. Commodore Fischer raised the obvious concern, "sir, that would require absolute precision in our own fleet movements," Yang was quick to reply, "That's where you come in, don't you commodore?"

Fischer seemed to understand, and a silent consent passed between the command group. With the formalities taken care of, the 13th fleet engaged the enemy, with all guns blazing.

* * *

Reinhard was sufficiently convinced that the operation would go without any hitch, with of course the exception of Yang and his 13th fleet, but that was a relatively small matter compared to the bigger picture. In only a few hours he realized, his faith wasn't misplaced, all his admirals were delivering results, with the expected exception of Kempf. Kirschies was also on his way back, which filled Reinhard with unparalleled glee, knowing that he'd have his friend back to assist him in the final chapter of the ridiculous alliance invasion.

Then it dawned on him. It was the same cold feeling he felt when he suffered his first tactical defeat at Astarte, at the hands of Yang Wen Li. The same sense of dread that preceded Yang's intrusive entrance in his life was now back.

Reinhard wanted to curse his instincts, tell them to stop acting up, but he couldn't. And it was only a few minutes afterwards that he realized he had been foiled, once again.

* * *

Ashoka was almost glad to hear the alarm bells, alerting him to the imperial counter attack. He could finally put his unrelenting mind to useful good.

His mind was working overtime even has he entered the bridge, being given the customary salute by his subordinates. He took his place with his command group, along with the holographic presence of the fleet commanders of the three other fleets he had brought with him for this particular operation.

Rear Admiral Rory Whittenborough was quick in his greetings as he got straight to the point, beginning right when Ashoka was descending on his chair, among his command group, along with the other Fleet commanders. Beginning the briefing Rory pointed out, "sir, the eight individual fleets of the alliance have been attacked simultaneously in a highly coordinated attack, by numbers superior to each of the individual fleets, it would seem their demise would be likely, and swift," Ashoka begged to differ, "I would not underestimate the alliance Rear Admiral, they did manage to overtake Iserlohn, did they not? Clearly they must have some competent commanders out there, so I'll give the alliance a fair chance, plus, I wouldn't have made the effort to come here if I didn't think the Alliance was going to be decimated."

Augustus just laughed again, "give us the damn orders, and don't delay, you know very well sailors are losing their lives as we speak here,"

Ashoka nodded with understanding, "it's simple really, we have three Olympian fleets here each 35,000 in size. So we divide all three in 2 separate units each consisting of 17,500 ships," Ashoka waited for his admirals to raise an interjection, no one did, "continuing, the 6 groups will warp to six different engagement locations, and issue a warning to the Imperial fleets, we advise them to retreat, and tell them we will engage if they don't. Furthermore I want you to make good on that word by destroying them if they chose not to retreat. Are my orders clear?"

They were as clear as orders came. Augustus headed back to his Hades fleet, and relayed the orders as he wondered about his best friend. The day he embedded his name as the tactical genius he is. Augustus was wrapped in deep layers of thought, when one of his men jarred him back to reality, telling him it was time for the operation.

Like Augustus, Ashoka was wrapped in deep thought, considering the implications of his actions, but even before that mentally preparing himself for the demise of the two fleets he would not be able to save himself. He prayed to the great god Zeus that the brave men found solace and rested in peace.

With that steely grit and desire, the Auralias fleet warped to their targets, hell-bent on making the first engagement in the country's history a successful one.


	2. Battle of Amritsar Part 1

**Battle of Amritsar: Part 1**

Ulanhu couldn't believe it. Miracles were something of an ambiguous topic for him. He never really believed in them considering them to be the incitement of false hope, something that could be very dangerous in his line of work. But a miracle it was, when an unknown fleet suddenly appeared, and opened a communication channel to all fleets, demanding the immediate retreat of the imperial fleet.

Ulanhu would perhaps even have cried had it not yet been the delicate situation. The only fact he knew currently was the fact that the previously unknown fleet was a detachment force of one of the Olympian fleets of the Republic of Auralias.

Furthermore Ulanhu was too drunk in his own guilt for the loss of over fifty percent of his fleet. He had been outmanoeuvred and utterly defeated. His 10th fleet had been no match for his opponent. He hated to admit it, but he had been destroyed, utterly extirpated.

He wanted to blame the Alliance management, but he couldn't, this defeat and its burden was his and his alone, no one but himself was responsible for this debacle of a defeat.

These thoughts created a predicament in his mind, wondering perhaps that he should take his own life, mentally preparing himself for the highest quantum of punishment.

Perhaps miracles did exist, because at that precise time the Auralian commander stepped into his quarters.

* * *

Reinhard was distraught to say the least. All the rebel fleets had managed to escape. That was not to say that they had not suffered casualties, but the angering factor here was the entering of the Auralian fleets.

The cold sense of dread he felt was once again on point, alerting him to an unwanted presence which came as the Auralian bastards.

His admirals had been smart enough to not engage them, which would have most certainly started a war between the two currently neutral nations. Reinhard, though was vexed beyond the human imagination could perceive. At that moment he made his mind. He would find the man that foiled his perfect plan, and destroy him. As for Yang Wen Li, Reinhard had had enough of him.

Good news came in time though, preventing Reinhard from slipping into a self-induced trauma. Kirchies had dejectedly walked in his room, fully displaying the actual extent of the catastrophe that was staring them in their face. Kirchies, however did carry a valuable, and perhaps pricless information. "Your excellency, it would seem that the rebels are gathering their remaining strength at point A in the Amritsar Starzone, it remains to be seen whether the Auralian intruders will join them, your orders?" Reinhard fumed, "it's obvious isn't it? We go and eliminate the Rebels, burying their burnt bodies in the graveyard of eternity." Kirchies expressed the faintest glimmer of ecstasy, quickly replacing that with his glum face, not being one to leave flaws in a plan he asked, "and what if the Auralians intervene-"Reinhard cut him off before he could finish, "Destroy them, we gave them their chance to escape, if they choose to remain adamant on dying, why shouldn't I grant them their wish?"

This time Kirchies could not help, but let a small smile escape his lips as he took his leave preparing to relay the message to all the other admirals.

* * *

Yang Wen Li did not know whether to be waspish or exultant at the fact that the Auralian navy had chosen to intervene. On one side they had indeed left Yang and his 13th fleet alone to die, along with the 5th fleet, commanded by Admiral Bewcock. However, it could not be forgotten that the Auralian intervention managed to save the bulk of the Alliance expeditionary fleet, and perhaps salvage the lost battle.

Yang, being humble as he was placed the victory of his fleet on pure luck, refusing to acknowledge the pure tactical skills that had been required to pull of that victory, with nearly his entire fleet intact.

The 13th had just begun preparations to rendezvous with the remainder of the Alliance fleet, beginning the arduous journey to the Amritsar Starzone. Yang had chosen this time to retreat to his quarters and acquire much needed rest.

Walter von Schenkopf, had different ideas. Walking in with his same sardonic smile he spoke, "those Auralians saved our asses out there didn't they?" "I'm not sure save would be the right word, they did choose to leave us and the 5th fleet to fend for ourselves," Yang stoically responded. "We cannot overlook the fact that they did manage to save the whole bullshit invasion by intervening," remarked Schenkopf, "furthermore, we cannot deny the fact that we will in all probability require their assistance if we are to overcome Reinhard and his imperial fleet at Amritsar." "Oh? And what makes you so certain that the imperial navy will infact show up and confront us," Yang chuckled. "Even you aren't that despot to the fact that they will indeed show up, Reinhard cannot lose this opportunity to further his own political career, and neither can he go home empty handed, as that would inadvertently result in his demotion, and a loss of confidence in his abilities."

"How great it would be that you were in fact wrong Scenhkopf, but I'm afraid that with how things stand right now we will very well be requiring the help of the Auralians if we are to achieve victory at Amritsar,"

Ashoka wasn't one to be surprised easily, however it was a pleasant one that greeted him as he wrapped up his operation. "Sir, it would seem that both the Alliance fleets we left by themselves managed to escape," Ashoka sighed with obvious relief, but the news wasn't finished, because what followed was quite peculiar, "furthermore sir, it would seem that one of the alliance fleets did in fact score a victory and left the battle area nearly unscathed."

To say Ashoka was dumbstruck would be quite an understatement. He silently played with a though, 'could this be the man I've been looking for? It is very much possible that he is the one responsible for the spectacular Alliance capture of Iserlohn,' Ashoka immediately dismissed this thought, 'he couldn't be the one, if he was, he wouldn't have let this bullshit of an invasion to take place in the first place.'

Content with that Ashoka went back to analysing the new information laid out in front of him. The bastard planners of the Alliance invasion had laid down another suicide mission. "You want to help them further don't you?" Augusts' holographic image flickered into existence. "Bloody hell, don't just scare the shit out of me like that." Augusts' beamed at this, "screw that, what do you want to do?" Ashoka sighed, "Well it's obvious, we assimilate our forces at Amritsar as well, and repel the Imperial bastards." "You do know that this time they won't just retreat, they will engage us, no two thoughts about it." Ashoka stayed silent at this awfully obvious piece of input.

* * *

Huang Osiris walked in on the Alliance commander about to take his own life. His military training kicked in as he rushed and grabbed the hand that held the gun and pinned it above his head, and swiftly disarmed the man.

"Holy shit, and what do you think you were doing?" Huang yelled. "Isn't it damn obvious, I'm taking my damned life." "And why in the blazes would you want to do that? "I Screwed my fleet, that's why, if you hadn't saved our asses, we would've been annihilated, toyed with, made a fool of."

Huang stayed silent for a little while at this. "You did the best anyone could've in that kind of a situation. You were outnumbered, and yet you managed to hold on, that in itself is a great achievement." The Alliance commander turned his distraught gaze onto Huang's face. "I… I did?" "Hell yes you did" Huang answered in a very sure shot manner. That seemed to do achieve the desired goal, as the Alliance commander got of his ass, and wiped his eyes, sticking out his arm in greeting, "I am Vice Admiral Ulanhu, commander of the Alliance 10th fleet, pleasure to meet you,"

* * *

Reinhard knew that he couldn't fail this time, the damn nobles would have his hide for dinner, if he returned empty handed, worse after already suffering a loss.

His plan to victory was simple, yet so meticulously calculated, that Reinhard was almost willing to relax. Almost. Reinhard did let out a sigh, grabbing a much required bottle of wine, pouring himself a well made drink, savouring the taste.

It reminded him of home, and the person he cared for even more than his ambitions, his sister Annerose von Grunewald. The same sister who was currently in the hands of that lecherous Kaiser. She was the reason that Reinhard had even begun on his conquest of sorts, it was to gain enough power to free her from the evil that was the Goldenbaum Dynasty.

His father had sold his sister for money, and it was something Reinhard could never forgive him for. He craved for her presence, and he craved for her return. Reinhard would never rest until his one reason for existence was complete, and his will was resolute enough to act upon it as well.

and currently the thorn in his boot was Yang Wen Li, the only man besides Siegfried who had managed to earn his respect, but that was it. Today was the day he was eliminated. Amritsar would be Yang Wen Li's grave...


	3. Battle of Amritsar Part 2

For all those still following, I'm so sorry, its been way too long since an update, but they'll be more regular now, My writer's block has worn off and I've got a proper plot in mind. Criticism is always welcome.

Obviously I don't own LOGH, except the OC's

* * *

 **Battle of Amristar Part 2:**

Yang was deep in thought, the intricacies of the situation befuddling him completely. Already too many men had died, for a downright negligent operation. It was vulgar, to say the least, watching the many millions of men give up their lives for the benefit of the few hoarding all the rewards.

His thoughts were interrupted, by the sudden call of admiral Bewcock. "Greetings, admiral Yang, of course I would assume there is no need to discuss the present scenario, or the preceding events that led to this, but how do you want us to tackle this," seethed Bewcock. Yang chuckled at the comments, "you want me to decide what we do?" "admiral Yang, at this point of the invasion, the only possibility we have left of salvaging whatever it is that we have left to salvage rests on that tactical treasure chest you possess," "Well, the forgone conclusion for me would be to contact the Auralians, even though we managed to come out of the initial engagement with all the fleets, the damage we suffered was massive." Yang continued with the analysis of the situation, "furthermore, we do not have nearly enough numbers to beat Reinhard in a full fleet encounter, and Amritsar gives us no geographical advantage that we could possibly employ against them, furthermore, the Auralians must have had a reason for intervening in a battle that did not concern them, we could be looking at a future ally staring us down in the face." He concluded.

Bewcock's smile lines flared up as he saluted and closed the communications without further discussion.

Yang sighed, his staff used to his behaviour, awaited their orders. "Lieutenant Greenhill, try to connect me with the Auralian expeditionary commander if you would." Before the others could say something else, Yang gave further orders, "we will however be preparing for worst case scenario, so I would advise all of you to get whatever rest you can, announce it to all ships, you have 3 hours of RnR time."

The staff members saluted with their weariness evident. Fredrica, however was left with the deceptively tricky task of contacting the Auralian commander.

Her problems, did however solve themselves momentarily…

* * *

Ashoka was captivated by the thought, that the Alliance politicians would send over 30 million men to their graves, for the sake of another four years in the office. It was offensive, and disgraceful. He held nothing but disdain for such vulgar animals.

Currently however, something else required his attention. It was of course, the next course of action to be taken, in the face of the upcoming battle.

Augustus walked in on Ashoka muttering gibberish under his breath. "Daydreaming, are we again?" Ashoka smiled without replying. "Right," Augustus declared, "Huang is getting us connected to the man who will take command of the alliance fleet for this battle."

At the correct moment, the image of a man flickered into existence. "I'm Vice Admiral Yang Wen Li, commander of the Free Planets alliance 13th fleet, and the man you left to die." Ashoka, quite frankly was surprised by the statement. "Well hello, I'm fleet admiral Ashoka Orionson of the Republic of Auralias. And I'm afraid I was forced to leave you and one other fleet, because we did not possess enough numbers to provide support to all the Alliance fleets." "Fair enough," "I would like to ask you though, are you the man behind the fall of Iserlohn?" "I see my repute preceeds me." "Then you must also be the one who's fleet made it out completely intact" "complete would not be the right word perhaps, but yes."

Ashoka had a sort of hungry gleam in his eyes, for once he wanted to truly test this man out, perhaps he was the adversary that Ashoka had been looking for all these lonely years. "How do you intend to fight against the Imperials, admiral Yang?" "well if I'm being fairly honest, we do not currently have the numbers to engage the Imperial Fleet in a full fleet combat, so if you choose not to support us, we will employ guerrilla tactics, and hope that we are allowed to retreat in due course of time."

Ashoka contemplated this statement for a moment, and he realised that the same way he was putting Yang to the test, so was Yang. Ashoka took another moment to try to discern his strategy. He gasped in sudden realisation "The mining asteroids, you're not using them as cover, you have no intention of winning this battle do you Yang Wen Li?" Yang maintained his usual stoic demeanour, despite being in absolute awe, "it would seem that I've been read and outplayed" Ashoka chuckled, "We don't intend to fight for winning either, we're only here to save as many lives as possible, we've got over 240,000 ships combined with our 105,000 and your nearly 138,000 that made out." "What's your plan?" "We continue with your plan, we reinforce your flanks and buff up your rear." "That's not all you're thinking are you?" Ashoka was once again at a loss for words. "I've been read and outplayed as well, but yes, I'll lead about eight thousand ships myself as a detached force and hit them from the left flank." "They'll detect you, it can't be done." "We'll shut of all systems and go dark, our ships have an independent gravity generation system, as well as an emergency supply of oxygen that can run for about 5 hours when a ship goes dark." Yang gasped, "you're going to take that risk?" "I am"

No further words needed to be exchanged between the two, they saluted and the transmission went dark. Ashoka turned to Augustus "You'll assume command obviously, merge the remainder of the Poseidon fleet with your Hades fleet and arrange yourself according to Yang, he is going to be your superior for this battle atleast." "You're going to let someone random just assume command and possible screw this up for us?" Ashoka chose not to respond, simply saying "That is an order."

* * *

Frederica watched Yang drinking his brandy intently. To say that she was worried about his excessive drinking habits was putting it lightly. She had at various times discussed it with Julian too. "Lieutenant, what do you think about humanity?" Yang broke the silence. Frederica hadn't expected such a question being thrown her way. "What do you mean admiral?" "I mean over the course of humanity and the nearly eight centuries since humanity took to space, do you think we've lost the humane side, the very word named after our species, do you think we've become so drunk in our own sensual pleasures, that we overlook the foundation of humanity?" Frederica didn't know how to answer this, she remained silent. "Hmm, you don't have an answer either. Even with the deaths we've caused, do you not believe that humanity should be given another chance at correcting its course, don't you believe we still collectively possess the capacity to feel compassion and to end the senseless fighting?"

Once again Frederica was left speechless, but it struck her at that moment. This man would make a better head of state, regardless of its nature as a democracy or dictatorship, that those bastards who throw away lives in an intricate game of fool's chess.

Yang must've realised that the environment had taken a dark turn and laughed "then again, I'm just a pessimistic historian at the wrong place." "Or maybe a realist who sees us for what we are…..sir"

Before Yang could have time to respond the alarms went off. "Sir the patrol ship reports multiple vessels headed our way, their number is more than eighty thousand."

"Lieutenant, let's continue this if we survive shall we? Order all hands to battle stations."

* * *

Reinhard could see the Auralian bastards with the rebel scum, he was still in shock with the audacity they'd shown contacting them and warning them of the 'consequences' of engaging with their fleet and the fact that they're prepared to defend the rebels. Reinhard blatantly overlooked their warning and promised them of a death that was fit for them.

"Sir, rebel force located, with what looks like Auralian reinforcements, they'll be within firing range in twenty minutes." The chief navigations officer announced. "Where are they holed up" an unusually ecstatic Reinhard asked with an impatient wave of his hand. "They seem to be using the old mining asteroids as shields."

Reinhard spent a long hard minute contemplating this "Yang Wen Li, you can't possibly have thought of something so simple, what's your actual plan?" Dismissing those thoughts for the time being he asked to be broadcast a fleet wide message. "All ships," he began, "the cowardly rebels have chosen to have their hideous hides saved by the Auralians," Reinhard let his genuine displeasure be felt, "we let them live once, but this time we annhiliate them completely, Yang Wen Li, and the rebels will be finished today, the so called magician has performed his last act, as for the Auralians, let them feel the wrath of the Reichflotte's most capable men."

Paul von Oberstein was a man who displayed no emotions. His only goal in life was the complete and absolute eradication of the Goldenbaum dynasty, what he lacked was the charisma and the ability to inspire people to action. Hence, he was left with no choice but to find someone to serve, someone who could fullfill this very desire of his, and put an end to those high minded noble bastards. For years on end he searched, until he found Reinhard von Lohengramm, a peculiar case he thought, but a man worthy of his loyalty. Even with the relatively less time he had spent under his command so far, he was left in awe of the man with every single speech he gave.

He was broken out of his trance by the announcement of the imminent arrival of the imperial fleet in the firing range of the alliance fleet. "sir visual contact established, weapon systems online, energy to shields and cannons at full, we are prepared to engage."

A silence followed for a second, silent enough to listen to the meekest of noise possible. Then. Then a single word rang out from his master's lips, "Feuer"

* * *

Ashoka had to be patient, not one of the virtues he'd been gifted with, but one he had to deal with nonetheless. He'd positioned his fleet on the left flank of the enemy as planned. He knew it was nothing more than a diversion to buy the Alliance fleet the time they needed to complete the actual breakout plan. They had the numbers to win a battle, but sacrificing any more ships for the Alliance was futile, the bulk of their national defence was out here, men dying, as sad as it was, in vain. It made Ashoka's blood boil.

'God damn politicians, trying to save their worthless hides, and sending thirty million men to their death. The very principles that the Free Planets Alliance was founded had eroded. I can't stop thinking about that poor soul Yang." Ashoka despite having communicated to him very briefly had already ascertained that the Alliance did not deserve a man like him. His train of thought was interrupted by communication from one Dusty Attenborough, commodore of the FPA navy, he was the one handling the escape plan, since he was in the vicinity of Ashoka's fleet, Attenborough was the one who would communicate the battle proceedings to Ashoka. "Now's your chance to hit those bastards, Admiral Ulanhu is holding the black fleet off, be quick, his lines are not going to hold too long." Attenborough saluted and the communications were cut off.

Ashoka's men turned to him waiting orders. He breathed in for a moment. "turn on the engines, maximum engagement speed, divert all energy to the weapon systems and shields, ram the black ships." The screens came alive as soon as Ahoka had finished speaking.

The Auralian Poseidon fleet charged at the Reichflotte, towards their first ever real fleet battle.

* * *

Bittenfeld was not happy to see that he'd been made to fight the same fleet who'd escaped his grasps just before Amritsar. Sticking to the Schwarz Lanzenreiter's overly aggressive battle doctrine, they were making quick work of the Rebel fleet. Then it all went wrong. Oh so wrong.

"Sir, enemy fleet numbering eight thousand ships approaching at high speed, at three o'clock. Analysing design, running through Imperial database," "a visibly distraught staff officer announced. "Confirmed match, the designs match those of standard Auralian ships."

Bittenfeld didn't hold back with the profanity, letting rebels escape twice was unacceptable, unthinkable, and so it was out of question. Herein lied the fundamental flaw with the fiery red haired admiral. He was a man too prideful for his own good. It could be argued that what propagated his unmitigated aggressive approach was his pride. And losing, losing was not something his pride would allow.

"Move seventy five percent of our fleet to meet the scum, reform the remainder of the fleet in a half encirclement, and hold of the enemy in front of us, they don't have the numbers to breakthrough the reduced numbers of our fleets." Bittenfeld seethed with anger, "destroy the bastards. Every. Single. Ship."

"Order sent out, fleet rearranging now." A few tense moments passed in silence following the change. Then, all hell broke loose.

* * *

"Sir, Admiral Bittenfeld is under attack by an Auralian fleet, it would seem they were lying in wait for this exact moment." Expectant eyes turned towards Reinhard Von Lohengramm. These men expected their stoic and icy leader to produce the same spectacular tactics which were no short of magic. However, for perhaps the first time in front of his men the young Fleet Admiral couldn't contain his rage. "That bastard, his ineptitude will screw us over again, does he think I'm some sort of wizard? able to conjure up new fleets with a flick of my wrist?" with near loathing in his voice he continued, "those Goddamn Auralians, and Yang Wen li, I tolerated Yang at Astarte, I spared the Auralians during the initial confrontation, and they….they just don't die do they." Reinhard spat.

Unused to this situation Reinhard's men turned towards the misfit. Paul Von Oberstein. He had meagre popularity if any. The deserter from Isherlohn left a bad taste in every Imperial solidier's mouths. What, however, couldn't be denied was the man's brutal but effective stratagems. In conclusion, the man was hated, yet feared, it was no small feat to make the other Admirals feel unease, but this one man managed it effortlessly.

"your excellency, the best course of action for us will be to pull back and disengage, atleast temporarily," this suggestion wasn't received well by Reinhard, "atleast? You want me to retreat Oberstein? You think me a coward?" Despite the outburst, Oberstein remained emotionless as ever. "No your excellency, we stand at an overwhelming disadvantage, even with Admiral Kirschies' fleet we are numerically weaker, and the competence of the Auralian admirals remains untested, this isn't the place to test it either." Reinhard contemplated the words for a moment, "you may consider this endeavour a failure, however sir, you fulfilled nearly all of your objectives, the only thing that went unfulfilled was the complete eradication of the Alliance, fleet, and even that was because of the untimely intervention of the Auralian fleets." Reinhard could produce no constructive retort to the logic of Oberstein. He resigned to accept the fact with a sigh. "Send out the order, all fleets to retreat to the edge of the starzone." The quiet bridge of the the Brunhilde roared to life once again."

'I accepted it does not mean I like it." These words cemented themselves within Reinhard's conscious, his heart thirsting for vengeance."

* * *

Aboard the bridge of the Hyperion, cheers rung out as the Imperial fleet, gingerly so, retreated from the engagement zone. Yang Wen-li sat down on his command chair. The adrenaline slowly wearing off. He placed his beret over his face as he propped his legs up. ' _The amount of talent Lohengramm has got, it's almost unfair,'_ Yang thought. The Alliance Navy had made it out, relatively intact. But the entire operation was one hell of disaster and Yang detested the politicians for it. _'That bastard Trunicht is the worst of those lowlife, he's probably going to be made Chairman because of voting against the invasion, and then everything will most certainly go to shit.'_ Yang's pondering was interrupted by the call of one Ashoka Orionson. The man was hard to read. He was certainly competent, dangerously so perhaps, but his ideals, remained cloudy at best to Yang.

"That was a wonderful maneuver you pulled of their Admiral Ashoka," Yang tried flattery. "Hardly so, it was all because of Admiral Ulanhu, and his tenth fleet that we were even able to pull off something of this magnitude." _'You're not one to respond to flattery huh? I'll be straightforward then.'_ "Admiral Yang, I wished to voice an opinion, if I have your permission." _'That came outta nowhere.'_ "Absolutely, please feel free," Yang replied. "Auralias is of course no longer neutral, however we will be parting ways here." _'What's he getting at?'_ "This is mere speculation on my behalf, but I do believe that you will be given control of Iserlohn Fortress, perhaps even in a singular command capacity," Ashoka explained, "As for the reasons, well you'd be more than well aware of my line of reasoning." _'He's thought that far? Damn, he might just be better than Lohengramm.'_ "When that time comes, I ask you to house a guest Admiral from Auralias, with a small complement of fifteen hundred ships, all until the completion of our own fortress, _Indraprashta,_ which will be in the vicinity of Iserlohn, in the Gungnir Starzone," Ashoka ended his explanation. Yang tried hard to hide his disbelief, unaware he'd succeeded in doing so or not. "That is quite the astute assumption you've made," Yang replied, "I'll admit, the proposition intrigues me, yet I'm a single Vice-Admiral, I'm afraid it isn't up to me to make such decisions, I'll keep in mind to raise it with the upper echelons." "It seems to me Admiral Yang," Ashoka began, "That you're either unaware of the power you hold, or choose to remain passive, I'm sorry to say, but perhaps if you hadn't remained as passive as you are now, operation 'Free Stars' might not have been such a debacle, Either way, I look forward to our next meeting." Ashoka saluted before the image went dark.

Yang was, for once in his life, out of words. He almost missed Frederica walking in. "Is everything okay Admiral?" She asked. "Lieutenant, do you believe I've been passive?" "Uh…I'm sorry, what Admiral?" "Nevermind, just a fleeting thought is all it was," Yang dismissed a visibly confused Frederica, choosing to be left alone with his thoughts.

 _'Passive huh? I couldn't have been right? That's not how a democracy functions'_ Yang thought hard, as he glanced at the boundless expanse of the star filled void of space. Unaware of the three, now, interconnected fates of Rehinard Von Lohengramm, Ashoka Orionson, and Yang Wen-li himself.

* * *

 _In the year 796 UC, also known as 487 IC, the climactic battle of Amritsar came to a close, forever intertwining the fates of three young men. Only time will tell how this game of chess plays out on the Galactic scale._


End file.
